Beyond Your Reach
by LyNn-6t7
Summary: 'This isn't happening. This isn't real.' The typical repeated beat of one still clinging to denial plays in your mind as you rock the boy that has been yours since the age of four. *Full Summary inside. Rated T just in case.*
1. Brother Found

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**A/N: This is a short three-part story basically retelling Sam's Death (when Jacob stabbed him in season 2) From Dean's perspective. **

**However I did this mostly to practice a different way of writing than I'm used to. Instead of first person or third person speaking in past tense I have decided to play with second person and present tense. **

**I'm not sure if it worked well but it was definitely new for me and I enjoyed it. **

**SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD **

Part One: Brother Found

"_I know one day I'll turn the corner and I won't be ready for it."_

_- Jean-Michel Basquiat_

As your eyes scan your surroundings, boring into every shadow and darkened doorway, you can feel what little hope you had being crushed under the utter stillness of the night.

There is nothing here.

No Demons.

And no Sam.

"SAM!"

You bellow your brother's name, your pace picking up under a sudden rush of urgency. Beside you Bobby hesitates for a moment and then quickly matches your long strides.

"SAM!"

He has to be here. You know it in your gut…you know deep down if you just reach out a little more into the darkness your fingers have to make contact with something….anything.

You round another corner….this decrepit town seeming endless in its muddy road and mildewing structures.…

And then….

Just like that…

There he is.

The relief that rushes through you upon seeing your little brother's tall frame is so strong it makes your trained hunter's steps falter.

Your shoulders sag and the fingers gripping the shotgun and mag-light loosen.

"Sam."

This time when the name rushes out of your mouth…it sounds like a breathless thank you to whatever deity or god you had unconsciously been praying to.

But you still don't feel relaxed.

There is a part of your mind….the part that stays permanently locked in a hunters mind-set—and happens to sound a lot like your father—that is whispering in your ear: this is all too easy.

After all the murders and damage done just to get Sam separated from you, that finding him here alone and in the middle of nowhere is too simple.

What was the point?

"Dean!"

But then your brother's voice reaches you and nothing else matters as you feel your legs begin to move again.

Yes Sammy is alive, but you don't need to see the way he is hunched over or the way he clutches his right arm to know that your little brother was far from okay. The emotion in Sam's voice and face says all you need to hear.

He has called to you in a way you haven't heard in years. Not since Sam was a kid and believed his older brother's presence meant safety….meant everything was going to be okay.

Roughly twenty yards separate you from him and you can easily see that the mask is completely gone from his face.

You longer see a weary young man walking towards you, but a gangly child that has followed you around your whole life….a child that graved your approval and your steady assurances.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden rush of nostalgia and you shakily release it…the urge to squeeze the over grown kid into a hug and choke him with your bare hands is running a tight race.

If this kept happening you know without a doubt that you're in for another heart attack before you reach the age of thirty.

Your lips quirk up as you take a quick breath, ready to shout that last thought at your brother in a desperate attempt to make a real smile show through the pain etched on his young face…but before you can get the words out something over Sam's left shoulder catches your attention.

And in less than a second your whole world changes.

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**A/N Part two is finished and is ready to go up. Let me know if I should finish. :)**


	2. Control Shredded

_"Denial ain't just a river in Egypt."  
-Mark Twain_

Part Two:

Control Shredded

The movement turns into a tall dark man bending up from the ground with something in his hand.

You can't see what it is, but after nearly two decades of training in combat you don't need to see what it is to recognize the quick sure movements.

The way the man is holding his body as he runs towards Sam's back tells you exactly what's about to happen.

The warning bursts from your lungs even as you realize it's too late.

"SAM LOOK OUT!"

For a split second your eyes lock with your brothers….lock with eyes that are still oblivious to the danger, eyes that are still showing relieved shock and pleading for you to make it all okay.

Then like the jolt of a gun being fired Sam comes to a lurching halt. His head flies back at the same time the pain-filled cry reaches your ears. At the sound a fiery blast of adrenaline causes your vision to flash white.

"**NOOOOO**!"

The meaningless shotgun and flashlight are falling to the ground as you rush forward. You don't want to think about the movement of the man's arm… you don't want to believe what that one strong jerk and twist has done to your little brother's back.

You were taught that very move at the age of fourteen.

You know how it's done, why it's used, and what it accomplishes.

But those few simple facts do not make it true…. because you're _here_. You had done it. You found your brother again and everything was going to be okay just like it always was.

Sam's long legs buckle and he goes down heavily to his knees.

Yours quickly follow.

You can feel the worn fabric of your jeans and the soft skin of your knees tear as you hit the ground, sliding several inches in the muddy gravel with the force.

"Sam!"

Your hands fly out as Sam begins to fall forward, fists clenching into the thick folds of jacket just as his body collapses.

The intense weight of your younger brother's body is very familiar to your arms, but the sudden force of the kid's full weight hitting you all at once is unexpected and you can't help the grunt that escapes your chest as your muscles contract and lock.

"_Whoa_….Sam. _Sam_!"

His head rolls loosely on his shoulders, his tall frame completely limp.

"Sam…._Hey_!"

Dark hazel eyes are open but there's no response.

"Hey _come here_…" You mumble shakily, automatically pulling him to your chest "…let me look at you."

Like it always does, your hand instinctively finds the spot Sam is hurt.

Blood, hot and thick fills your palm so rapidly that even though your hand is only over the wound for a half-second you can feel the warm fluid trying to seep out between your fingers.

Your hand his shaking as you pull it back up.

What you see sends a dart of panic straight into your chest.

And in that one heart-beat, as you stare at the deep red staining your palm, you know that it's deadly…for both of you.

But your determined mind forgets the thought in the next second as you pull your brother back on trembling arms so you can see his face. Because you know you've been wrong before and that you _have_ to be wrong now…

Because if you could be sure of _anything_ in your gory, violent whirlwind of a life it was that as long as Sam was with you he would be okay.

"Hey….look…." the words tumble out unevenly without conscious thought.

The silence is too much so you begin to fill it in with babbling lies, knowing your brother will see right through it…will roll his eyes and say, '_you're full of shit and cut the act.'_

"It's not even that bad…it's not even that bad _alright_."

Your knuckles are white as you fight to hold Sammy up to eye level, to see his face.

But there is no superior look to find at your failed attempt at lying.

No eye roll.

No exaggerated sigh.

"Sammy…?"

His pale features are terrifyingly blank….his dark hazel eyes glazed and unfocused.

They gaze into yours without seeing… and then slowly they blink, drifting lazily to the left before they close. The thin strand of contact you were clinging to breaks, taking with it what little control you thought you had and shredding it.

* * *

**Part 3 coming tom. or the next day. I got a couple reviews for chapter One and I want to say Thank You for the comments. ;) I will probably post the whole thing regaurdless (being 4 chaps altogether) but it would be nice to know if I should. No feed back makes me nervous lol. **

**Anyhoo...Lots of luv till next time. ;)**


	3. Fears Unlocked

**Fears unlocked**

"_The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost."_

_ - G. K. Chesterton_

* * *

"_No_."

The mummer of denial is calm as it slips from your lips.

"_No-no-no-no-no-no-no."_

Your strained arms convulse, jerking your brother's prone form back into your chest.

Sam's head flops and lands between your neck and shoulder. The solid weight is too familiar and pulls your mind back in time, to uncountable nights of comforting a frightened child, of endless naps in the back off the Impala.

Your hand cups the head of shaggy brown hair, the only thing of Sam's besides his eyes that have barely changed over the years. The only things that makes this huge lanky form identifiable as the small skinny boy that followed you around with endless questions and unwavering trust.

Despite the growth spurt Sammy had made between the age of fourteen and eighteen he had always been the kid you had spent your whole life taking care of.

That raw desperate panic you always felt over the years whenever Sam had gone missing from your watchful gaze seems to crash into you with a force a thousand times stronger than it had ever been before.

Because this time you can't follow.

There is no searching….no bringing back.

It's impossible to search for something that is no longer there.

The sudden desolation hits like a bullet to your chest; piercing and deadly. The force sucks your breath away, squeezes your lungs in a vice of razorblades. Your body convulses at the sharpness of reality, curving in and around the precious thing in your arms.

The old saying of putting all your eggs in one basket is an unbearably impossible realization to comprehend. Your whole life has been wrapped up in one person. One object.

Everything you were and are….everything you cared about is gathered together in one being….in one person.

And it now kneels pressed to your chest….bled out and gone….

"_Oh God"_

Flashes and words once said suddenly tear through your mind as an unconscious door, locked and buried deep, tears off its hinges; allowing all the wild fears you had of this moment ever happening to come barreling through, blood-thirsty and unstoppable.

You are young again, drowning in a responsibility too heavy for your small shoulders as you try to keep Sammy quiet, try to make him stop crying.

_Finally you sit on the floor and pull the toddler into your small arms. _

"_Shhhh…." you whisper, your pulse rapid and eyes wide with panic. _

_And then you begin a rhythmic rocking. _

Forward and backward…

_Sam quiets. _

_Deep sobs turn into hitching breaths…. _

Forward and backward.

_A few soft hiccups…._

Forward and backward

_And then a soft snore fills your ear. _

_Your shoulder and neck are wet with tears and your little arms ache with the effort of holding the toddler up, but in that moment you feel a rush of pride and love that's much too strong for your young years…._

The memory strikes like a lightning bolt.

Bright and fast….the only thing visible, and then just as quick it's gone, leaving blindness and pain in its wake.


	4. Beyond Reach

**Part 4: Beyond Reach**

"_The rest is silence."_

_ -Shakespeare_

'_This isn't happening. It isn't real.' _

The typical repeated beat of one still clinging to denial plays in your mind as you rock the boy that has been yours since the age of four.

Because Sammy _is_ yours.

From the moment your father placed the six month old bundle into your small child arms and gave you his first of a lifetime of orders:

"_Take you brother outside as fast as you can. Don't look back. Now Dean. Go!" _

Your little brother had seemed so small and yet too much for your arms to carry. But you had kept your grip tight and your legs steady as you flew down the stairs, across the hallway, and out the front door without hesitation, as if you had been doing it all your life.

It was that night that the fierce responsibility seized you in its grip, never to loosen again, not even two decades later.

'_It's not real….I'm dreaming…this isn't real…..it isn't real, it's a dream…._

But it is with these desperate thoughts that your thread of denial is stretched too far.

Because this situation whether it is real or not has always been your worse fear. And though it made sense for one to have nightmares about what scared them most, you never had.

Your whole life was devoted to protecting Sam, your entire being programmed on a conscious and unconscious level to always step between the bullet and your brother. Even in sleep this instinct is locked in place.

So it isn't possible that Sam is dying in your dreams….and if this wasn't a dream then there was only one other option left.

The very impossible.

When the frozen air finally rushes from your lungs it's in a scream that echoes through the air and bounces of the decaying buildings; seeming to reach every being capable of hearing except the one it is aimed at.

"SAAAAAAAAAAAM!"

Half a mile down the road Bobby Singer stumbles over his own feet and nearly falls to the ground.

The man he had been chasing is quickly swallowed up by shadow, but it doesn't matter.

There's no point in chasing what's already gone.

As the hunter spins around and heads back in the direction the scream had come, Bobby knows with a painful lurch in his heaving chest, that it was over.

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**Well that's it, sorry it took so long, honestly this short chapter was finished when the last one was, I just wanted to see if I would get a couple reviews before I posted the next one. But then I started in on something else and I kind of forgot I didn't post this up yet. lol. I know lamest excuse ever but it's true. :/**

**Well for the few of you who stuck around for this short little blurb: I thank you!**

**Reviews Are always welcome. So if you have a second drop me a message ;)**


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